


Rocky Road

by WafflesnRizzles



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Oneshot, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Shamelessly cheesy, Well it's dairy anyhow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WafflesnRizzles/pseuds/WafflesnRizzles
Summary: It doesn't take a Big Bad or an Intervention for our favorite ladies to find each each other. Nah, it just takes some ice cream.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is fluffier than my cat and more cliché than a T Swift song. I apologize in advance, but by all means, do enjoy!

“Regina.” Emma says seriously, her tone belied by the pout on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes.

 

“Em-ma,” the brunette responds, playfully drawing out the syllables before cocking a challenging eyebrow. With a definitive click of the bedside table lamp, darkness melts away the image of Regina’s triumphant face.

 

“Ugh! Please?” Emma asks, pulling the word like cotton in the hands of a three-year-old. She rolls over and pokes what she hopes is Regina’s side. She’s pretty sure it jiggles, and it causes Regina to slap her hand rather hard, so she guesses she got a boob instead.

 

 _Second base, Swan. Not bad for a sleepover_. No—what was Emma thinking? She had to keep her eye on the prize, and Regina’s…form lying next to her was not at all what she should have in mind.

 

“No.”

 

“Here’s the thing, Regina. This is a sleepover, right?” She pauses just long enough to force Regina to reluctantly agree. “And sleepovers have _rules_. One of the main rules is that ice cream happens.”

 

Regina huffs and then takes a long, deep breath, as if composing herself to deal with the insufferable lump that was Emma Swan. “I’m sure you can find room on the pullout with your parents, if you’re so inclined.”

 

Emma winces, thinking ruefully about her flooded apartment. Who knew an enchanted mop could cause so much damage?

 

“Oh, like you want to deal with a grumpy Snow tomorrow,” Emma says, calling her bluff. If Regina found Snow’s officious kindness and effusive hope excruciating on a good day, then she was sure to want to murder her on limited sleep. Snow went straight to Disney-movie mode on no sleep. Regina always dryly called it ‘overcompensating.’

 

When Regina only huffs again, Emma tries a different tactic. “Look, lady. Both you know and I know that there is an unopened pint of Rocky Road underneath your potion-y shit in your basement freezer. Either you agree to let me bring it up here with two spoons, or I requisition it as Sheriff of this good town and only bring up _one_ spoon.”

 

“OW!” Emma yelps, grasping at her shin. “I can’t believe you just kicked me. What are we, five?”

 

“Oh so _now_ you admit you’ve been acting like a five-year-old.”

 

Emma can feel Regina smirking in the darkness like a sixth sense. She feels a growl forming somewhere deep in her throat and she contemplates what Regina’s reaction would be to being smacked with one of her ungodly soft pillows.

 

“Look, Regina. It’s…” Emma inches closer toward Regina and looks over the woman’s body to see the glowing red of the alarm clock on her bedside table, “almost midnight. We have an evil wizard named Yen Sid trying to kill us all and we’ve been fighting him for weeks. Don’t you think we deserve an eensy reward?”

 

Regina huffs again, and contemplates whether or not it would be worth magicking a gag onto her bedmate. From the way her body reacts viscerally to the idea, she decides that is a resounding ‘no.’ “Sleep could be a reward, Miss Swan.”

 

In the darkness, Regina smells the characteristic warm, fresh scent of Emma’s magic. It smells invigorating, like mint and action and—

 

“Emma!” Regina growls, launching herself onto the woman before she could even contemplate what she was doing. She gasps as she feels the cold cylinder of ice cream press against her chest as she grapples with Emma, their limbs flailing in the darkness and trying to find purchase on one another. “Give me the damn ice cream.”

 

“Never!” Emma shouts gleefully, and she rolls so that she is now on top of the brunette, the ice cream pint wedged in between her knees as she pinned the erstwhile Mayor. Now _this_ was some sleepover entertainment. She uses her full weight to pin Regina down onto the bed, and in their struggling manages to turn on the bedside lamp without knocking it over. That spoon has to be around here somewhere…

 

In the soft glow of the fluorescent lamplight, realization dawns on the faces of both women. Emma is pressed flush against Regina, every curve of their bodies following that of the other’s in perfect sync. One of Regina’s hands is on Emma’s strong bicep; the other is gripping tight to a hip. Emma’s right hand is pressing Regina’s shoulder down into the mattress, and her legs are snug in between Regina’s own.

 

Their lips are mere inches apart.

 

Their eyes, wide and darting. Their breaths, ragged and uneven with activity. Parted with want.

 

Their hearts are racing from their struggle, but instead of decreasing their rapid galloping they are increasing still. Their limbs are suddenly aware of each other, each point where skin is touching skin feeling more and more alive with each passing moment, the pulse of blood just beneath the surface so palpable and the nerves interspersed and connected suddenly prickling with the heated knowledge that it was touching _her_ skin in _this_ way at this very dark time of night in a bed where more touching could occur away from prying eyes and the sobering daylight.

 

Regina watches as Emma’s bottom lip slowly disappears under an onslaught of teeth. The sight—so normal, under other circumstances—seizes her with the desire to run her own teeth over Emma’s lips, to follow her teeth with the cool sweep of her tongue and to coil her hands in Emma’s soft, mussed hair.

 

Regina exhales a short puff of breath that fills Emma’s senses and makes her dizzy with the unique smell. She does her best to look unaffected. “You’re melting the ice cream, dear. I assume you magicked us some spoons?”

 

The words seem to jolt Emma out of the mesmerizing trance that was Regina’s soft, sweet—ugh, _smirking_ —face. She pushes herself off of Regina, shaking her head not unlike a dog as she does so. “Uh,” Emma rubs her hand sheepishly through her hair and rummages in the tangled covers. “I only brought one.” She tactfully places the one spoon in Regina’s open palm. Upon seeing Regina’s continued pointed glare, she also places the container of ice cream slick with condensation in Regina’s other open palm.

 

To her surprise, Regina opens the lid and proceeds to lick the soft ice cream off the top of it under Emma’s watchful gaze. “You know I don’t like to share, Em-ma.” She dips the spoon into the creamy dessert and scoops out an obscenely large bite. Emma is instantly transfixed again as it disappears slowly past the older woman’s lips. The smirk that pulls at Regina’s lips when she undoubtedly notices Emma’s blatant staring jolts the Sheriff out of her daze once more.

 

Emma easily slips back into her role, “I disagree. You _do_ share pretty well.” Emma receives a challenging eyebrow in return. “With me, anyway.” The eyebrow inches higher. Emma narrows her eyes in challenge.

 

“Let’s see…we share Henry,” Emma lists off as Regina nods in agreement. “We share a Netflix account.”

  
“A mistake on my part, I assure you. Your taste in movies is positively atrocious.”

 

Emma smiles cheekily. “You know you love it. Hm… we share fries at Granny’s. And clothes!”

 

“You _steal_ my clothes. There’s a difference.”

 

“You stole my black hat that one time.”

 

“That’s a—” Regina pauses, reigning in her immediate impulse to go on the defensive. She couldn’t deny it, but she also didn’t want to reveal to Emma the real reason she wore it: to feel closer to Emma. “Well it seems you may be the exception,” Regina concedes gracefully, albeit uncharacteristically.

 

Emma beams in response. “Spoon, please!”

 

Regina rolls her eyes but concedes, the ice cream now little more than a cool chocolate, nuts and marshmallow soup.

 

She casts a glance at the blonde beside her, the look of adoration wholly missed by the blonde eagerly scooping the liquid into her mouth. Honestly, if it weren’t so endearing, the blonde’s enthusiasm would be rather repulsive.

 

Emma scoops up a bite of almost pure marshmallow and holds it out to Regina, who lifts a characteristic skeptical eyebrow.

 

“C’mon, it’s the best bite!”

 

“The best bite would have been fifteen minutes ago.”

 

Emma huffs and brings the spoon back to her mouth with a resigned shrug. “Em- _ma_!”

 

She stops. Regina is looking pointedly at the bite still on the spoon. It was Emma’s turn to smirk, and lift it playfully up to her lips.

 

The look of playful horror on Regina’s face is just too much to handle—

 

How far had they come? From enemies, to tentative allies to close…intimate friends who can just screw around and enjoy each other’s company. It was a lot for a girl who grew up in so many foster homes that she had given up on friends by age nine. Maybe too much, because all she saw when she looked at Regina was the word ‘future,’ written neon and oh-so-obvious all around her perfect face.

 

So Emma does something really, really stupid.

 

She kisses her. She has the half eaten ice cream sitting precariously in her lap, one arm held out balancing the perfect ice cream bite and her lips are barely touching Regina’s because she’s straining at such an awkward angle—but it’s a kiss, dammit, and she thinks (hopes? wishes?) that she feels Regina smiling.

 

“I swear,” Regina says, her voice low and her lips brushing against Emma’s as she speaks, “If you so much as spill a drop of that on my comforter I will feed Snow Adderall and lock you in a very small space with her for a very, _very_ long time.”

 

Emma feels the spoon being wrested out of her grasp and watches unabashedly as Regina lifts it to her lips and swallows. There is a little bit of marshmallow left behind on her lips.

 

“You’ve got something right…” Emma leans in to ~~steal another kiss~~ properly divest Regina of the offending marshmallow.

 

“Here,” Regina says against Emma’s lips. “I’ve got something right here.” Emma feels Regina’s arms wrap around her, pulling her closer as their lips find a comfortable rhythm together. It’s slow and comfortable—not at all how Emma imagined it in the fifteen thousand times since she first arrived in Storybrooke—and Emma feels her heart swelling with every passing second.

 

“Just to clarify…you mean me, right?” Emma asks abruptly, cursing herself for ruining what could have been at least a third base kind of momentum.

 

“Yes, you idiot. Now either feed me ice cream or take my clothes off.”

 

Emma looks longingly at the ice cream for a second before peering back at her grimacing companion. “Nah! Just kidding!” she says, before launching herself back into Regina’s arms.

 

It had taken a rocky road to get them there, but they had finally found each other.


End file.
